


every time we open up our eyes

by caesurae



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F, Happy Ending, Oneshot, mass effect: andromeda spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesurae/pseuds/caesurae
Summary: She just wants her brother back. But nothing can be done until he wakes up, on his own terms.“Whenever you’re ready to get out of bed,” she jokes, and it’s a lame joke, sure.But he’d like it all the same.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so, I haven't written any fic in ages - I'm still working on some, rest assured, but things have been very busy - but I couldn't get this out of my head. So, it's likely non-canon (I'm running with what spoilers I've seen) and does have a few spoilers, be warned! I wrote this yesterday and finished it this morning, so I apologise for the not-so-fantastic quality of this work. And any typos.
> 
> Title taken from "Sun" by Sleeping at Last.

.

“So, uh…hey, Avery.”

He doesn’t say anything, of course, because he’s in his cryopod and, you know, in a damn coma. But she talks. Because she’s always been able to say anything and everything to her little baby brother – _I’m only a minute younger_ , he always protests when she brings up her status as the older sibling – and so Morgan talks to him.

Doctor Lexi says it helps. She’s a hell of a woman. Brilliant. Strong. They’d be lost without her. She won’t tell Morgan exactly when Avery will wake up, though, because she doesn’t know. And Lexi only says things when she’s certain about them.

“I’d ask how you are but I doubt much has changed for you.” She smiles. Stretches out her arms. Her shoulders are stiff, and the vertebrate between her shoulder blades pop and crack from the movement. “Me, though? I don’t know where to start.”

Lexi’s there now, and she shoots Morgan a _look_ , and says, “Keep things light, thank you! Your brother does _not_ need to know about you–”

“Almost dying three times in five hours on one planet?” Lexi’s eyes narrow. Morgan blinks. “Oh, right. Sorry. Subtlety’s never really been my thing, doc.”

“As I am rapidly becoming aware. Talk about the weather, or your squad mates, or the crew. And keep it nice.” Lexi grabs her datapad and heads out of the room. On her way out, she mutters, _impossible woman_ , but there’s a fondness to her tones.

Morgan watches her go and finds herself smiling.

“You’d like Lexi,” she confides to Avery. “Now, what were we talking about? The weather. Right.” _What can I say about the weather?_ she wonders. “It’s…nice, depending on where you go.” _Heat stroke on Elaaden. Nearly got caught by a radiation storm on Eos. Almost froze to death on Vold._ “Pretty planets.” _And hellish ones too._ “The wildlife is…cool. Some of it is tasty. Some of it is…not. Um.”

Avery’s a scientist. This is the kind of stuff he loves. “I’m going to get some of the geology reports from Suvi. You two worked together, back in the Milky Way, didn’t you? Yeah, she misses you. Said no one else understands the rock-licking thing. She had a bit of a reaction after licking this one rock. Lots of facial swelling. Pretty funny. I took photos. She doesn’t know. I can’t wait to show you when you wake up, so you can tease her.”

Morgan tells him some other things. Then she sits in silence for a while. If Avery were awake, he’d probably braid her hair – _it’s better for wearing under a helmet, that way, and you can’t braid for shit_.

_Thanks. Thanks so much._

_That’s alright, sis. You have your talents. Hitting things. Shooting things. Getting punched at bars. Causing havoc. You make a decent cup of coffee, though._ And he’d smile. He has the best smile. Bright and happy and _inspiring_.

She misses that smile. Misses him.

Morgan presses her forehead to the cool surface of the cryopod. And, in a voice that catches, she says, “I miss you, little bro. More than words can say.”

.

Vetra’s buying knives. Morgan meets her there, down in the armoury shop. Funny, that. Pathfinder Team still has to buy some weapons. Not that’s Morgan’s going to complain about it or anything. She was never even meant to be Pathfinder.

So they buy things and don’t complain. And they make do. Everyone has to make do.

“How was it?” Vetra asks quietly. She’s running a hand over a blade that rather resembles a machete. Then she puts it down and looks at Morgan, _really_ looks at her, and waits.

“It was….” Morgan searches for words. “Nice,” she decides upon eventually. Then she takes a deep breath. “To be honest? I can’t stand not having him here. He…we’re twins. And after dad I just – I can’t.” She turns away. Her eyes are prickling.

And yeah. She doesn’t want to cry here, in public on the Ark Hyperion. She’s humanity’s Pathfinder. They need her to be _more_ than a person. They need the Pathfinder Ryder they were always meant to have.

So she doesn’t cry. But she almost does.

Vetra’s hand is on her shoulder. “I’m here for you, Morgan,” she says, and that’s what gives Morgan the strength not to break down there.

.

“You and Vetra seem to be on good terms.” It’s Cora. She comes to stand alongside Morgan in the meeting room on-board the _Tempest_ , and she too looks out into the expanse of Andromeda.

Morgan considers this and nods. “She’s a good person. I’m glad she’s on our team.”

Cora doesn’t say anything for a while. Then she asks, softly and caringly, “How are you holding up?”

Morgan swallows. “Careful,” she warns, and her voice is thick, “I might start crying.”

“You’re allowed to cry. It’s just the two of us. No one will see, or hear, and you’ll retain your gruff and stoic reputation….”

“Aw, c’mon, Harper, I’m hardly _gruff_.”

“Yeah.” Cora reaches over and squeezes Morgan’s shoulder with one hand. “You kind of are, to people you don’t know. It’s the Pathfinder thing.”

“I am what they need me to be,” Morgan answers diplomatically. She knows her eyes are shining. “Look what you’ve done. Now I’m going to cry.”

“So cry,” Cora says, and rubs Morgan’s shoulder. And Morgan does cry, quietly, and the two of them stand there and look out at Andromeda, and maybe there are tears in Cora’s eyes too.

“This is a shitfight,” Morgan says eventually. She sniffs. “So much has gone wrong.”

“But we’ll make it right. And maybe we’ll make it right before Avery wakes up. That way, he misses out on all the fun….”

Morgan snorts. It’s not a pretty sound. “I think he’d feel a bit left out,” she admits, and Cora laughs. “We’re going to have so many stories to tell him.”

“We will, won’t he? And the first time he sees this view…well.” Cora squeezes her shoulder again. “He’ll love it.”

.

She and Cora have come a long way over the last few weeks. And it was all understandable, what happened initially – Cora was always meant to be the Pathfinder if something happened to Alec, not Morgan. But what’s done is done, and Morgan’s doing her best, and Cora is helping her.

Cora is a good friend. That, in itself, is something Morgan is very glad for.

.

“Hey, bro. I brought you some coffee, but uh…I only realised that you couldn’t actually drink it when I was walking into this room. Because…you’re in a coma.” She places the coffee cups on top of the cryopod and then leans one hip against it. “So I’m using your pod as a table. How about that, Avery? Even in a coma, you’re useful. Well done.”

 _Fuck you_ , he’d say, and push her shoulder. But she wouldn’t let herself be moved – they’re the same height, but he’s skinny, and she’s all hard-earned muscle. And she’d ruffle his hair, and pretend it hurt when he punched her in the side. That’s their routine.

She misses it. Misses telling him to stop reading those scientific journals and go to sleep. Misses the sly jokes he makes. Misses his insight.

She just wants her brother back. But nothing can be done until he wakes up, on his own terms.

“Whenever you’re ready to get out of bed,” she jokes, and it’s a lame joke, sure.

But he’d like it all the same.

.

There’s a photo of her, Avery, and Alec. She keeps it on her bedside table. Looks at the three of them – she and Avery with dark red hair, their mother’s hair, and Alec, greying brown. But the three of them share similar facial features. Strong jaw. Serious brow. Long nose. It was taken when she and her brother were eighteen, sixteen years after their mother passed.

She looks at Avery standing alongside her. The two of them, red-haired and very freckled, and she sighs and whispers, “I wish you were here.” It's just the two of them, now. 

And then she looks at their father and doesn’t know what to say, other than, _I’m sorry,_ _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry._

“This is one hell of a mess, SAM,” she says roughly.

And, just to her, SAM says, “It is. Your father believed in you, however.”

.

There are nights when she can’t sleep. Morgan makes coffee and goes to the meeting room and looks out the ship windows.

Sometimes, Vetra is there too, drinking some manner of turian beverage. And they stand there, when the ship is silent, and talk quietly.

They speak of their siblings.

And it’s nice. Comfortable.

Morgan enjoys the time that they spend together.

.

It’s a good little team, they’ve got. People don’t always get along, but everyone has different personalities. It’s to be expected.

And Morgan manages to be a half-decent leader, she thinks.

.

It’s a far cry from working with the Prothean dig team – sure, they had their close calls, guarding the scientists: fighting against raiders and pirates, protecting the researchers from local wildlife, battling against storms and heatwaves and landslides.

But this? This is more dangerous. More rests on their shoulders – on Morgan’s shoulders – than finding some new and interesting artefacts.

.

“There’s that laser focus again,” Morgan says. She and Vetra are cleaning weapons in the armoury, just the two of them, and there’s something incredibly attractive about the attention Vetra gives to the weapons, the way she handles them.

Morgan’s not jealous of some guns.

 _Is_ she?

“I know you like it,” replies Vetra, and gives her a _look_.

 _Oh_ , Morgan thinks, and yeah, she’s jealous.

.

She gets drunk with Suvi. They share stories about Avery. And it’s nice, because Suvi knew Avery before they set off to Andromeda, and she misses him too, and she tells Morgan some funny things that Avery had never mentioned, like the time he got lost in a cave and decided to take a nap because he was tired.

“To Avery,” Suvi toasts. Then, with a glint in her eye, she says, “May he wake up soon, ‘cause I’m sick of having to do all the geology on this ship.”

“Hear-hear,” agrees Morgan, and their beer bottles _clink_ together.

.

Drack throws her across the cargo bay. Morgan hits a pile of crates and then slams into the metal floor. She can taste blood in her mouth. _Lovely way to spend my morning_ , she thinks, and sucks in a deep breath, rolling onto her side with a grunt.

“On your feet, Pathfinder,” Drack says, balling his hands into fists. “You’re doing well.”

High praise, coming from him.

She gets up and raises her fists. Readies herself for another round.

Not everyone has the privilege of being trained by a krogran over fourteen centuries old, after all.

.

Dinner time on the _Tempest_ is an amusing affair. The galley is crowded, and they don’t quite have enough seating, so some people have to stand.

Morgan doesn’t like to deprive people of the chance to sit down at the end of a long day, so she leans against the wall and balances her plate on one hand, holding a fork with the other. On the other side of the room, Lexi and Drack are discussing thresher maws. Peebee is flirting terribly with Suvi, and Liam is trying not to laugh at the bad pick-up lines. Cora serves out food with absolute precision, while asking Jaal about the history of his people. Kallo and Gil are deep in conversation about the inner workings of the _Tempest_. The galley’s filled with boisterous conversation. It makes her happy, to see them like this.

Morgan eats and tries not to yawn. It’s hard. Vetra nudges her, and says, “You’ve been staring at an empty plate for the last five minutes. Go to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Morgan says. And Vetra looks somewhat flustered by that reply, which is charming.

.

Morgan sleeps well, that night. She dreams of Vetra, and tries not to think about it when she wakes up the next morning.

But it’s not that easy. Cora asks her why she’s so distracted.

She just shrugs because she can’t think of what to say.

.

And they flirt, Morgan and Vetra.

It’s _something_. Something that Morgan thinks about quite a bit.

Sometimes, she glances over, and catches Vetra looking her way.

.

If Avery was here, he’d pull Morgan aside and grin and say, _so flirting with Vetra, huh?_

If Avery was here, Morgan would tell him everything.

But he’s not.

.

“How do you think I’m doing, SAM?”

“You would make your father proud.”

And that’s nice to hear. Alec Ryder was…a distant father. But demanding too.

Sometimes, Morgan thinks Cora knew him better than she did. But there’s no regret there. It’s just the way things were.

And she has Avery. Even if he’s in a coma.

 _‘Course you have me, Morgan. You always will_.

.

Morgan hates political games; hates the little fights that the directors have. Hates that they pull her into it.

And she makes a point of telling them that. Loudly, and laced with expletives.

Later, Peebee says, “I just – the look on Tann’s _face_ , and Addison? That was brilliant.”

And Cora, who should have been Pathfinder, says, “Well done, Ryder.”

.

“Yelled at some people today, Avery. I think you would’ve liked it.”

_How many times did you swear?_

“Only five times. I think.”

_Only you, Morgan. Only you._

.

“I’m teaching Ryder to fight,” Drack announces. “She’s alright. Haven’t broken any of her bones. Yet.”

Morgan doesn’t know whether to smile or grimace. In the end, she settles for patting Drack’s arm.

“Don’t hurt the Pathfinder,” Kesh tells him with a sigh. “Too badly, that is.”

“Pain builds us,” Drack says. “Makes us stronger. You look good, Kesh. This job agrees with you.”

“I might kill Tann.”

“Maybe,” Drack says. “You would be doing us all a favour. Right, Ryder? Ryder called the directors – what did you say?”

“A pack of bloody bickering fuckwits that won’t pull their heads out of their fucking arses.” Morgan raises her coffee cup to her lips.

“Yes.” Drack’s eyes are dreamy. “If only you had punched them, Ryder.”

She chokes on the coffee. Kesh laughs.

And it’s funny, she never thought she’d sit down with two krogan and feel like she belonged with them, but…

…but that’s what she’s experiencing right now. It’s welcome. She likes it.

.

Morgan gets shot.

 _That’s_ fun.

She’s standing atop a ridge of rock, Cora and Vetra flanking her. The three of them are surveying the jungle below for points of interest.

“Ugh,” Morgan says. “There’s something in my helmet. Damn insects.” She crouches down and takes off her helmet. And the insect is crawling around in there, bright orange and many-legged. “Yuck, look at this piece of—”

_BANG._

The bullet’s impact is like being punched by Drack. And she’s been punched by him before, in training. It’s not pleasant. And she thinks, while the world moves, _I’ve been shot, and they didn’t even get me in the head, the fucking idiots. It was such a good target._

The force of the shot sends her off-balance and she goes crashing down the other side of the ridge, tumbling and slamming into rocks and trees, vines snagging at her feet and arms. There’s a _crack_ and her head hits something – _a rock_ , she thinks, and curses so loudly that her throat feels quite raw.

And she comes to a rest in a patch of soft grass and decides, _so, I’m alive._ Her vision’s blurry. Broken nose. Blood drips into her mouth, hot and metallic.

“ _Ryder, report. Ryder, report.”_ It’s Cora, yelling in her ear. How is she yelling in Morgan’s ear when she’s not here with Morgan? _“You’d better be conscious, Ryder!”_

There’s another gunshot. And another, and another. Morgan presses her right index finger to her ear and is pleased to find her communicator still there. So _that’s_ how she can hear Cora, of course. “Report,” she wheezes out, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes.

“ _Oh, thank fuck.”_ That’s Cora. “ _Where’d you get shot?”_

“I don’t fucking know! Who was shooting?”

“ _Kett. Three of them._ ” It’s Vetra. Morgan’s never been so glad to hear her voice. “ _I’ve killed two. Cora’s coming down to check on you_.”

“Nice.” Her nose is swelling. Vision isn’t getting any better. _Hell._

“ _How badly are you hurt?”_

Morgan lifts her left arm and grimaces at the odd way it moves. “Just drop that last Kett,” she tells Vetra, and then takes her finger off the communicator. She runs her hands over her armour, searching for where the plates have been scratched and broken, tell-tale signs of bullet entry.

There’s a deep gouge in one of the plates of her right shoulder-guard. So deep, in fact, that the thick material of her underarmour has been sheared away in a line, and a shallow wound left in the muscle of her upper shoulder.

So. That’s lucky. Could’ve been a lot worse.

By the time she’s mustered the strength to sit up, Cora is there. She crouches before Morgan, and even up so close she’s blurry. She checks Morgan over, sees the bullet wound and sighs in relief.

“Guess who’s got a broken nose?” Morgan asks, trying valiantly to smile. All it does is hurt. Blood drips off her chin.

“It can’t be you,” her second-in-command deadpans. “You look as stunning as ever. Want me to set your nose?”

“Sure. But don’t count down. I hate that.” Cora reaches out, places her hands on Morgan’s face, and then snaps the cartilage back into its rightful place. “ _Fuck_!”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“Yeah, I bet you enjoyed doing that,” Morgan mutters, but her nose is already feeling better. Cora just laughs quietly and pulls out a tube of medi-gel. This, at least, she applies gently.

One last gunshot cracks through the air _._ Then Vetra’s voice is in Morgan’s ear again.

“ _Last one is down. I’m coming to meet you now. How’s Ryder?”_ Is it just Morgan, or is Vetra’s voice sharp? Worried?

“Grumpy and pretty uninjured,” Cora tells her. “Nice work, sharpshooter.”

“ _Thank the spirits.”_

By the time Vetra’s joined them, Cora has splinted Morgan’s broken wrist and checked her for other injuries. She’s quite lucky, apparently. Upon Cora stating this, the tension fades from Vetra’s body, and she nods, returning her rifle to her back.

There’s a stream twenty feet away. Cora goes to get some water to wash away the grime on Morgan’s face. And that leaves Morgan with Vetra, who’s crouching at her side and _looking_ at Morgan in that intense way.

That focus of hers really is attractive. Morgan’s said as much before. And Vetra, well – she flirted back. Because they’ve done a lot of flirting, by now. But nothing else.

“Don’t look at me, Vetra,” Morgan jokes. Blood runs into her mouth when she speaks. “I’m ugly. I can’t have this change your opinion of me.”

“You’re not ugly,” Vetra says, laughing quietly. And then she’s kissing Morgan, and it’s bloody and Morgan has dirt on her face and there are leaves in her hair, and she’s probably the least attractive person to kiss, but Vetra doesn’t seem to mind.

So. There’s that.

.

The trek back to the _Tempest_ is quiet. Vetra takes point. Morgan tries not to stare at her too much.

She tries not to smile, either. But she knows she is, because her nose hurts.

“I saw you two kissing, by the way,” Cora says frankly. Morgan almost trips over a tree root. Cora grabs her arm, helps the Pathfinder get her balance, and then claps her on the back. “Congratulations. Morgan, are you _blushing?_ ”

“No!”

“Cute,” Vetra says.

Alright.

Morgan’s blushing.

.

Lexi gives Morgan a hell of a lecture. “Standing on a ridge and taking off your helmet? Why didn’t you just wave your arms and shout, ‘hello, is there anyone out there, I would like to be shot in the head!’ _Honestly_ , Ryder. What kind of – you were in the military! You should know better!”

“But I didn’t get shot in the head. They got me in the shoulder.”

“Don’t you – that’s not the point.” Lexi shakes a tube of medi-gel at her. “Not another word out of you, alright? Sometimes I wonder how I sleep at night.”

Morgan can’t help herself. “Dreaming of Drack, I bet.”

Cora, sitting on the bed next to Morgan’s, almost falls off laughing.

.

How in the galaxy is she going to tell Avery all of _this_?

.

She goes to find Vetra, that night, so that they can talk. Morgan looks in the mirror – face is still bruised, the cut across one eyebrow still healing, nose still swollen – and breathes in deeply. At least there’s no mud and foliage in her hair now. Took a while to wash all of that out, too.

She pulls the red strands back into a ponytail and grimaces at the circles under her eyes. Then she thinks, _she kissed me when I was bleeding and filthy; I don’t think she’s going to mind that I look tired._

Morgan always looks tired these days, though. They all do.

So. She settles her shoulders and nods. Then Morgan crosses the cabin, opens the door and steps out, only to quite literally walk into Vetra.

“Hey,” she blurts out, taking a half step back so that there’s a bit of room between them. Not that she wants to move away. “I was coming to find you.”

“Hey,” Vetra says, looking at her softly, hands coming up to rest on Morgan’s body – one at the small of her back, one on her shoulder. For once, Vetra isn’t wearing her visor. It’s nice. Still, though, it’s a very dashing visor. Morgan rather likes it on her.

Morgan almost says _hey_ again, but stops herself just in time. Instead, she finds that she’s cupping Vetra’s jaw, fingers brushing over the hard and rough surface of her mandible.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Morgan says instead.

“Good,” Vetra replies, and bends down to kiss Morgan. And – and Morgan doesn’t _swoon_ , alright?

But it’s damn pretty close.

.

Back on Ark Hyperion, she tells Avery everything.

She can almost see his grin.

 _I’m glad for you, sis_ , he’d say.

.

The doctors say his condition is good, but they can’t say when he’ll wake up.

“It had better be soon,” Liam says, “or he won’t have any ground-breaking discoveries to make in Andromeda, yeah?”

Cora laughs. “Hear that, Avery? You’re not the only geologist that came to Andromeda.”

Morgan shakes the doctors’ hands and finds herself smiling.

.

Back out into Andromeda, where so much is still unknown. They track down lost colonists. Work with the angara. They go to the Nexus.

Then back to the Hyperion. They never stop moving. They can’t afford to.

.

Suvi tells Avery about all of their discoveries and analysis so far. And then she spends a good ten minutes talking about a specific, striking mineral that Liam brought back one expedition.

“-and I saved one of the specimens for you. It’s sitting on a shelf, all ready for when you wake up. I think you’ll like it. If you don’t, then fine, but I’m having it. Someone has to appreciate this fine rock.”

Morgan, sitting on the other side of the pod and reading through reports from another Pathfinder, snorts loudly. “Careful,” she warns. “He might jump out of the pod this instant.”

But he doesn’t.

.

Later, when Suvi’s gone, Morgan rests her head against the cryopod and murmurs, “We’re doing alright. It’s hard but…we’re doing alright. And I haven’t failed them. Not yet.”

Avery would throw one arm around her shoulders and say, _but you won’t fail them. I know you won’t._

But he’d also understand the weight on her shoulders.

.

Vetra stops by. Asks if there’s anything Morgan wanted her to get.

“No,” Morgan says. “But – you can stay, if you want?”

And so Vetra does.

Morgan wonders if it’s awkward, hanging out with the comatose brother of the woman you kissed.

Not that it seems to worry Vetra. She’s unflappable, in this way. She sits next to Morgan, close enough that their hands touch. Her presence is reassuring.

Morgan likes having her here.

.

Vetra finds her sitting next to Avery’s cryopod the next day. “I hate to interrupt,” she says, and by the tone of her voice, Morgan _knows_ that Vetra really doesn’t want to take this time away from her, “but Director Addison has sent you some messages. Quite important, I believe.”

Morgan feels a bit sheepish. “I may have…dimmed my notifications sound on my omni-tool.” She stands, rests a hand on the cryopod, and says, “See you next time, little bro.”

_Only by a minute. Take care._

“You too,” she murmurs.

.

The messages are a headache, but she deals with them all the same. After, she trains with Drack.

“You should meet my brother,” she tells him. And Drack, ever one for practicality, doesn’t say, _he’s in a coma._

He just nods and says sure. He’d like that.

So later that day, Morgan takes Drack to meet Avery.

“This is him?”

“Yeah.”

Drack stares at the cryopod. Then he slams a fist against his armour. “Good to meet you, little Ryder. Your sister is a good warrior. Not as good as me.” He leans in close, lowers his voice. “I’m teaching her.”

“Hey – hey, I’m _good_.”

“I bet that’s what Vetra says. Eh? Eh?” He elbows her. Morgan has to step back from the force of the gesture and she gapes at him, comprehending what he’s just said.

“Oh my – we haven’t – how did you even know?”

“What haven’t you done?”

“We’ve only _kissed_ ,” she hisses, and shoves the krogan. It’s like shoving a mountain. He doesn’t move. “And how did you know? Tell me!”

“You’re so obvious,” he mocks. “You and her, circling around each other, filled with lust. And this flirting. It’s pointless. Go in there and get it.”

“Get – get it? Is that what you call sex? _It_?”

“Go and fuck!” he replies and his voice is very loud because he’s, well, a _krogan_. And it’s lucky there are no other people talking to their loved ones in here, because then they’d have to hear _this_ , listen to _Drack_ , who is staring triumphantly at Morgan. “Or you’ll both explode! Kallo says—”

“Kallo! What does Kallo say?” _That filthy traitor_ , Morgan thinks viciously. _I knew he was a gossip, but telling Drack all of this?_

“Kallo says that the _sexual tension_ , as he calls it, is killing him. And Peebee has a betting pool. You should see your face.” He grabs Morgan by the shoulders. “When did you kiss her? I have to know. For Kallo.”

The door opens. Morgan hardly notices. “None of your fucking business! Why don’t you stick to teaching me how to _fight_ – and, by the way, I do know quite a bit.”

“Liar.” Drack leans in close. “She watches you. Vetra. And looks at certain parts of your body. She wants you. You want her. This is simple, Ryder.”

Morgan’s cheeks are burning. “I will not lecture you on romance!”

“Pah! Lecture _me_? As if you could!”

“That’s quite enough, thank you!”

And it’s Lexi. She’s staring at them both, disapproval clear on her face.

Drack grunts and releases Morgan. “Doctor,” he says, as cordial as Morgan has ever heard. “You look nice.”

Lexi is not so easily charmed. “These people may be comatose, but yelling is _hardly_ appropriate. Keep your voices down and – and I’m not going to comment on what you were talking about.” A beat. “Vetra is very nice though, Ryder. You make a good pair.”

And Morgan doesn’t know why, and she can’t help it, but she begins to laugh. It bubbles up from her chest and out her mouth and makes her entire body shake.

 _Did you hear that?_ she wonders of her brother. Because he’d laugh too, and roll his eyes. And he’d like Drack, even though the two of them couldn’t be more different.

Lexi lets them laugh, at least. Apparently, it’s good for Avery.

Good for Morgan too.

.

Drack asks Lexi out to dinner. Cora and Morgan overhear the entire thing by accident and stand there, in the shadows, staring at each other with wide eyes.

And Lexi says yes.

.

It’s sweet. Morgan’s glad for them.

.

A few days later, she buys dinner for all of the _Tempest_ ’s crew. It’s a good night. They’ve become a tightly-knit bunch, and there is a strong sense of love and camaraderie in the private room Morgan hires out.

And there’s an empty seat where Avery would sit. She can see him interacting with everyone here. Laughing with Liam, talking in barely-understandable scientific terms with Suvi, listening to Drack’s stories attentively.

Telling embarrassing tales about Morgan to Vetra.

_Hey, it’s my right as your brother. You’d do the same._

_Yeah_ , she thinks fondly. _I would._

.

After dinner, they split up. Drack and Lexi have plans. Peebee’s buying Suvi drinks, apparently. They’re still dancing around each other, but they’ll happen, Morgan thinks. Cora, Gil and Liam are going to show Kallo and Jaal the _worst_ of human cinema.

“It’s going to be terrible,” Liam says gleefully.

Vetra and Morgan end up going to watch the terrible films too. They sit up the back of the rec room, and by the end of the first movie, Morgan’s fast asleep on Vetra’s shoulder.

Gil takes a picture of them. Sends it to Morgan the next day.

It’s a nice photo.

.

They leave the Ark Hyperion. Back to fighting the kett. Back to helping the angara.

.

Peebee catches Vetra and Morgan kissing down in the cargo bay and shouts, “I knew it! Ha! I _knew_ it!”

Morgan, still sweaty from her workout (Vetra had interrupted her towards the end, which was entirely welcome and really very pleasant) grabs her sweaty t-shirt (in Vetra’s hand, and _not_ on Morgan’s body), and quite cheerfully throws it at Peebee’s face. Then, laughing, she gestures rudely at Peebee, and leans up to kiss Vetra again.

.

That night, Morgan asks Vetra to come up to her cabin, and they take things a step further. And there’s a few things they have to learn about each other, and human-turian relationships in general, but it is, really, a wonderful, intimate night.

.

“You’re walking funny,” Cora tells Morgan the next morning, and winks.

.

They establish new homes for the people of the Andromeda Initiative. They help the angara.

The directors say she’s doing well, as Pathfinder. She’s a good leader, a good soldier.

 _I’m proud of you,_ Avery would say, and clap her on the back.

Morgan thinks that Alec would be proud too.

.

“You’re so…solid,” Vetra murmurs, one night, tracing a talon over the muscled length of Morgan’s back. “But there’s a softness to you too. Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Sweet-talker,” Morgan says, and winks at her. “Round three?”

“You are _insatiable._ ”

Morgan laughs and draws Vetra towards her. “I thought you liked that?”

“Oh, believe me, I really do.”

She shows Morgan just how much she likes it, in fact.

.

Back to the Hyperion. After running several dozen errands on the station, Morgan asks Vetra to come and find her just before the _Tempest’s_ due to leave, and heads off to talk to Avery. She spends an hour there, leaning against the pod and talking, before Vetra enters the observation bay and tilts her head.

It’s time to go.

“That’s Vetra, coming to tell me that we’re leaving now. Gosh, she’s so hot, Avery. Like, _wow_. I’m super lucky. Legs for _days._ ”

“Thanks,” Vetra says wryly. “You’re a real charmer.”

Morgan thumps one hand on the side of the pod. “I got shot and she kissed me because she was so worried. Now _that’s_ romance, bro.”

Vetra rolls her eyes. Lexi descends on them, jaw taut, and reminds Morgan to _not_ talk about being shot, thank you very much. And no stabbings either.

“You take all the fun out of this,” Morgan jokes. To Avery, she says, “We’re heading out again, little bro. Stay safe.”

_You too._

.

Things get bad for the _Tempest_ and the Initiative for a while. That’s how these things go, after all.

But they fight. They _fight_ , and they’ve gotten good at this.

It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing they’ve ever done. It weighs heavily upon them all and threatens to tear them apart, but they have each other, and Morgan’s damned if she’ll let anything like that happen to her crew.

.

They triumph.

How about that?

.

The kett are driven back. The angara are aided. A future for the Andromeda Initiative is secured.

She hugs everyone on board the _Tempest_. Tells them that she couldn’t have done it without them.

“And we couldn’t have done it without you, Pathfinder,” Liam tells her, and hugs her so tightly that her feet leave the ground. “To the Pathfinder!”

.

There’s a party on-board the _Tempest_. Suvi and Peebee sneak off to go make out or something. It’s classically Peebee.

Vetra’s quite happy to kiss Morgan in front of everyone. And then, later, they escape to the Pathfinder’s cabin, and no sleep is had at all, until it’s almost 4am.

.

They head back to the Hyperion. There’s a welcoming party, and _confetti_ – “Who brought confetti from the Milky Way?” Cora wants to know.

Morgan doesn’t want to be at this party right now, though. She just wants to talk to Avery. So she escapes, and heads down to the cryopod observation bay.

.

His pod isn’t there.

She stares. Tries to comprehend. Feels the panic rising up inside.

“Ryder.” It’s Lexi. Her hand is gentle on Morgan’s shoulder. “He’s fine. Come with me.”

“Where is he?” Her words are all rapid and sharp. “Lexi? If he’s fine, why isn’t he here?”

“Morgan. He’s fine. I just got word.” Lexi guides her out of the room and down the hallway. Morgan’s panic begins to calm a little. “It’s very exciting. Are you prepared?”

Morgan can’t quite comprehend what the doctor’s saying. It’s as though her brain doesn’t want to believe. “Prepared for what?”

They turn right, into med-bay 2. A few patients lay on beds there, recovering from injuries. Except for one, down the end of the room. He’s sitting on his bed, wearing loose pants and an Initiative shirt, swinging his legs and laughing at what his doctor’s saying.

And then he turns and looks, and there’s that grin – bright and wide and _inspiring_. “Hey, sis,” says her twin. “Heard you saved our asses. Well done.”

She stops. Gazes at him incredulously. He doesn’t seem real. “What the fuck,” Morgan blurts out.

“I’ve been in a coma for the last few months and _that’s_ the first thing you say to me when I’ve woken up? Thanks, Morgan. Never change. Now, come here.”

Then she’s moving. Morgan reckons she must cross the room in four long strides, and by the time she’s reached Avery he’s standing, arms spread wide. They embrace. It feels a lot like coming home, and he _is_ real – he hugs her so tightly that she thinks her ribs might break, and that’s fine. She doesn’t mind.

“It’s about damn time,” she tells him. They have so much to talk about – dad is foremost amongst those things – but for now, she just wants to spend time with her brother. Make sure he’s really here, awake and grinning. “And it’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.” He steps back a little so that he can look at her. He sees the shadows under her eyes and the new scars on her face. And he smiles, but it’s gentle now, and the sight of it makes her heart ache. “You’ve made everyone proud. Me most of all.”

“Yeah?”

He’s crying. So is she. “Yeah.” He hugs her again. “I know about dad,” he whispers into her ear, and Morgan’s heart breaks hearing those words. “I’m sorry you had to bear all of this alone.”

“But I was never alone.” She wipes her eyes and clears her throat. “I had you. And I had everyone on board the _Tempest_. They’re having a bit of a party, now. You’ll have to come and meet them.”

.

They take some time to collect themselves, and then they head to where the party is. People _notice_ when they enter the room, because people have a habit of noticing Morgan, now, and when they see she’s not alone a silence falls across the crowd, and someone turns the music down.

Here they are. The Ryder twins. Just as it was always meant to be.

Then there’s a cheer. Suvi races forward and throws herself at Avery, and Cora isn’t far behind – she gives Morgan a resounding clap on the back, too – and then Vetra’s there, and Morgan almost falls into her arms, and she’s laughing and asking Vetra, “Can you see him? He’s awake! He just woke up! Look at him!”

"He's here. How about that?"

And Vetra holds her, and hugs her, and understands. That means more than anything.

Once Avery’s free of Suvi and Cora, he comes over to introduce himself. And, watching her brother shake hands with her lover, greeting each other warmly, Morgan decides that there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

.

 


End file.
